


(love myself before) i love you

by DoctorFitzy (KittooningMalijah)



Series: Bruises Verse [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Gen, Post-Framework Universe (Marvel), Therapy, leo has an identity crisis kinda, mentions of depression, vague cliffhanger ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 06:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16153952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittooningMalijah/pseuds/DoctorFitzy
Summary: Just when life was starting to balance out again, Leo was given an assignment. Leave it to the Ward family to cause his therapist to give him homework.





	(love myself before) i love you

          Lucky for Leopold Radcliffe, as soon as the Ward family had returned to his life, he started receiving homework instead of just giving it out. The moment his therapist found out about the letter that had been left to him, he'd turned it into an assignment that Leo himself was stuck completing. It was due every week, another letter to someone in his past that would wrap up all of his feelings and give him  _ closure _ . Apparently.

          Actually,  _ lucky  _ wasn't really the word he would have chosen to use.

          It was a miserable task, trying to pick someone new every week to think about and figure out what, exactly, he felt. Most of the time, he ended up too frustrated to finish, not actually completing the assignment for the first three months. He still went to his appointments, still talked about things to the best of his ability, still taught his classes, still met up with Thomas every week for drinks. Eventually, he wrote the letters, too.

          The first one he wrote wasn't just an assignment, but a response, and he turned it in with the stipulation that no one was to ever read it, not even his therapist. Writing it all out, owning up to old emotions, it had ended the way the rest of them had -- with a round of frustration and the urge to pull his hair out because that would somehow hurt less.

* * *

_ Ward, _

_           It would be easier if I hated you and had burned that letter as soon as I opened it. Then, I wouldn't have to write this stupid thing, and all the others I tried to write on my to it. I probably wouldn't have your stupid little brother trying to set me up with everyone in the bar every Thursday, either, and that would save me a lot of time and effort. I wouldn't have to take care of him and stop him from getting so drunk that it borders on him becoming a threat to society. _

_           He misses you. For some reason. I don't think I want to understand why, but a part of me understands anyway, just not in a way that I can put it into words. _

_           I think it's my fault he misses you so much, so you kind of screwed up by sending him to me, if you think about it. So it's not my fault. It's your fault. _

_           You didn't want me to change, because you wanted someone who could actually take care of the one person in your family that you liked, but you got to me a little too late. As much as you wanted to believe that I was just another one of him, I don't think I ever was. I've always been you. We've both always been a little fucked up, you were just brave enough to admit it from time to time. I liked to pretend that I wasn't a bunch of shattered pieces put back together in the vague shape of what I was supposed to be. _

_           That got way too poetic, and I'm sorry, even though you'll never have to suffer through whatever that sentence was. I'm a teacher, now, I grade papers. Well, I'm supposed to grade lab reports, but it's easier for some of my students to write them like they're stories, instead, so I let them. Maybe I just picked up on a few of their habits on accident. _

_           My point is, we're the same. We're both screwed up in the same ways, and we had the same cracks. We were shattered in the same places. _

_           It would be easier if I hated you, but that would mean hating myself even more than I already do. I'm trying to stop doing that so much, even if it's hard. I appreciate your sentiment, but I'm not the only me there is. You wore it better. _

_           I wish I hated you. Because then you wouldn't be so high on the list of people I used to care about that this letter even exists. I wish I didn't still see how you could have been better, how you were better even without choosing the same side the rest of us did. I wish I didn't see so much of you in me. _

_ Mishka _

* * *

          No one read his first letter, though Leo was well aware that all of the others had been opened and added to his file within a day. He understood why, but that didn't mean he had to particularly enjoy all of his thoughts being pried at. There were things he still didn't want to talk about with anyone, even his best friend, and especially not his therapist. There were things that Thomas knew but didn't really understand, and that was just fine with him.

          It was even okay with the man he spent time with every week, whose job it was to psychoanalyze him and decide how to fix the flaws in his brain. All of the flaws except the ones that were intertwined with each other, that would take months to even process, let alone comb through and fix.

          When he'd revealed his reasoning for changing his name, Thomas had jokingly tossed around the term  _ daddy issues _ like it was the name of his favorite movie. The teasing had been brief, and he stopped as soon as he realized the level of discomfort it had caused, but the words still haunted him, if only because they felt inaccurate. His issues weren't just with paternal figures, but with men as a whole.

          Alistair had left.

          Ward had betrayed them all for Hydra.

          Mack had been part of another shadow organization.

          Coulson had killed a man in front of him.

          Hunter had only been part of his life long enough for his leaving to hurt.

          Radcliffe had lied to him.

          Even his own head was cruel from time to time.

          He'd only really known two genuinely  _ decent  _ men, and only one of them was still in his life enough to call him a friend. His therapist didn't count, nor did his fellow teachers or the parents of his students. Then again, maybe that was because he was too afraid to try to get close to any of them to build anything resembling a friendship. There were too many risks involved when it came to letting anyone else into his life.

          Still, even after the teasing had stopped, there were a million thoughts still rolling around in his head, and those thoughts led to the second letter he turned in that would never be opened.

* * *

~~_ Radcliffe _ ~~ _ , _ __   
~~_ Father _ ~~ _ , _ __   
~~_ Holden _ ~~ _ , _ __   
~~_ Da _ ~~ _ , _ _   
_ __ Whoever the hell you're supposed to be to me,

_           I think my life would be a lot easier if I didn't give everyone so many chances, and that includes you. I get hurt a lot, and Tommy likes to say it stems from all of my daddy issues, and I suppose that means it's kind of your fault. Maybe it's mostly Alistair's, but I don't think who the blame goes to really matters anymore. _

_           Maybe things would have been easier if you had just told me the truth from the beginning. Then maybe I would have understood your stupid need to build a robot that was designed to protect me and my friends. I kind of understand it, now, but I would have rather you just told me about it before everything got so complicated. I wouldn't have hated you nearly as much, and maybe I wouldn't have had so much trouble adjusting to the truth. _

_           I know I make self deprecating comments because of my injury, but I'm not an idiot. I know that putting me in the Framework was your doing. It wasn't Aida's idea to give me another life, and I highly doubt that any of those changes were her idea. You tried, I'll give you that much, but it definitely wasn't a good idea to make the changes you did. In fact, I think that makes my whole new round of daddy issues entirely your fault. _

_           Your intentions were good. You tried your bed. You weren't the best at being a parent, but in your defense, you didn't have a whole lot of practice. I don't know who to blame that part on. _

_           I should hate you. I should at least be angry with everything you didn't. I shouldn't miss you as much as I do. _

_           I think missing you this much is just a result of my issues. Everybody leaves, or dies, or stabs me in the back, and it might actually be kind of impressive that you managed to do all three within the span of a few months. Maybe you deserve an award for something like that. I don't know, maybe I'll find something to do about that. _

_           This letter has a lot of maybes in it, but I think it's fair that it does because so did our entire relationship. I have three memories of when you might have intended to tell me the truth, times I still think about so much that it keeps me up at night. Two of those instances were when you weren't even there, and I reacted rather violently all three times. I'm sorry. _

_           I made a few mistakes, too. Not every bad thing that happened was your fault. Maybe the universe just decided, a long time ago, that things with us would always be a mess. But I'm doing my best to make up for everything I did. I haven't gone by the name Alistair chose for me in a long time. I think Leopold James Fitz died as soon as the Framework was shut down, because I'm certainly not him anymore, and I never will be again. _

_           If you did anything for me at all, it was that you showed me I am not my programming. That's something Jemma said. I am not my programming. I am not SHIELD's ideology. I am not the man that I was in the world of the Framework. I am who I make myself, not what my past has programmed me to be. So I'm not Dr. Leo Fitz, SHIELD engineer. I'm not The Doctor, Hydra's head of science. _

_           I'm your son. Whatever the hell that means. _

_ Leopold Holden Alexander Radcliffe _

* * *

          "God, do you ever think about how pretentious you are?" It was an hour into their usual Thursday ritual, and Leo wasn't at all surprised that his friend was already three beers in. "Like, not even the things you say. You know how to make science make sense to little kids. Okay, they're not  _ little _ , but you know,  _ kids _ . You can dumb yourself down, but your  _ name _ , Fitzy."

          He shook his head, sipping at his own drink with a small, fond smile. It wasn't something that came up very often between them, poking fun at his decision, but it did happen every few months. It was a stupid joke that got made whenever they got just a little too tipsy. It made them both laugh.

          "Leopold H A Radcliffe. It sounds like you're about to write the next great young adult series." Thomas let out a laugh while he set the bottle down on the counter again, shaking his head with a small grin. "You should, actually. It'd be a hit. You know kids enough to write something they like."

          The Scot glanced over at him, shaking his head again and letting himself stay relaxed in his seat. It wasn't like he hadn't considered the idea, especially after the first time the comment had been made. He spent five days a week with the exact demographic that young adult fiction was targeted toward, so it wasn't like he didn't know his audience, but with his weekly sessions and everything else on his plate, he simply didn't have the time to start the next great, best-selling series, no matter what the target age group would have been. "Why don't you write one? You can use my name as an alias, or something, so no one tries to track you down, or anything."

          With a scoff, Thomas shook his head again and looked over at him. "You know me, Fitzy. It would just be a book of softcore porn with ghosts or vampires or werewolves or whatever kids are into these days. And if I used your name for that, you'd lose your job. You love your job too much for me to ever do anything to jeopardize it, even if you do have a stupid, pretentious name."

* * *

          Between teaching, and his sessions with his therapist, and Thursday nights, and trying to keep up with other commitments, Leo didn't write any letters for a while. For months, he focused on keeping the other parts of his life in tact and even took up an offer for a date that he'd been set up on by the one person in his life that he still considered a friend.

          It hadn't gone horribly, but it wasn't at all good enough to remember most of the details. She had been sweet, and let him babble when he got nervous, but nothing about the night was  _ memorable _ . They had parted on decent terms, with the agreement that another date was not in their future, but maybe a party invitation if the opportunity ever arose. They would be acquaintances, say hello if they ran into each other on the street, but their lives wouldn't be entwined with each other.

          Besides, the failed night gave him motivation for his next letter, especially when he realized why the one date he'd been on in nearly two years wasn't successful because he hadn't even been trying. He'd had something else in mind that had nothing to do with the woman across the table all through dinner, and everything to do with his fear to pursue anything even remotely romantic with anyone.

* * *

_ Jemma, _

_           I'm still in love with you, and I'm realizing that it's making it rather difficult to love myself, or even like any part of me. _

_           It's not right to say that any of my behavior since I left has been your fault, because it's not, but I will acknowledge that it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't seen what I did on the security footage. If I hadn't watched that, I wouldn't have left at all, and I wouldn't have hidden away, and I probably wouldn't have changed my name, and those are all things that have been really good for me, in the long run. _

_           The bouts of depression and anxiety and my bad episodes are things I could live without, but I'm doing my best to make the best of those, too. _

_           I went on a date, last weekend. She was nice, but I couldn't stop thinking about the few dates we actually got to go on, and how much I still miss you, and the ache I feel whenever I remember why you aren't here, and why I'll probably never see you again. Because I'm starting to realize that I don't think I want to see you again, or anyone from SHIELD, or any other aspect of my life. Things have to be divided for me, right now. You just happen to be from Before, and I'm sorry that means that, right now, you can't be a part of my After. _

_           That might change in a few years, if I really get better, and if Thomas ever convinces me to write a book, or maybe if he just stops using a nickname that you used to use with me Before. Maybe that's why I don't want any reminders right now. I'm not to my After just yet.  _

_           In order to get to my After, I have to learn to put myself first. I have to be selfish, right now, because I've spent so long being selfless, and trying to understand everyone's side, and it was killing me. It might still be killing me. As horrible as it might seem, I don't think I was ever really happy in our relationship, at least when it came to the romantic part of it. _

_           You were my best friend, and I didn't want to lose that, but I knew I couldn't have things both ways. I spent so much time being afraid that I'd screw something up, or say something wrong, and you'd be upset. I was afraid of losing you, and in the end, that made me lose myself, and that wasn't fair to either of us. I've never loved all of myself, so I've never shown it. I'm hoping I can really be myself in my After, and I'm already on my way there. _

_           I have whole classrooms of students who never knew my Before, and that's a relief, most days. Because my Before consists of a lot of hurt, and a lot of fear, and I don't want them to know that kind of pain. They're just kids, and the world hasn't been cruel to them just yet, and if I had a way to make it so that the world was never cruel to any child, I'd make it so. Maybe not with something as drastic as the Framework, because that had a few flaws, but maybe teaching them a few basic principles of science will teach them to be better than our generation. Because that's all we can hope for -- for a better After than the Before we were. _

_ Not the same Fitz _

* * *

          Within a year, all three of the letters that he'd specifically wanted to keep secret and hidden had been read, though only one of them was delivered to the person it was addressed to. Leo had tried to keep his life organized into two categories, but Before and After didn't cover all of it, because there was also a piece in the middle.

          And like every other moment in his life, the part in the middle was the worst.


End file.
